Come back and promise me an eternity
by DarkmareLaura
Summary: My first real fan-fic story, A fem-slash with Hermione and Bellatrix, this is my first attempt at anything like this. There is also an Easter Fgg for Dolly parton fans, try and spot the lyrics from her songs i have used throughout. enjoy. only 3 chapters
1. Hermione remembers

***Hermione remembers ***

Hermione sat on the bed in the bedroom she shared with Ron and took out a crumpled piece of parchment from a drawer by the bed. It was many years old, yellowing, but the words were printed and still clearly legible.

Ron was at work at his brother, George's shop, Rose at Hogwarts and Hugo was spending the day with Lily at Harry and Ginny's. She was safe.

She unfolded the paper and turned it round to view the photograph it contained. It was part of the 'Daily Prophet'. She had torn it out during her fifth year at Hogwarts.

The image was of a witch with long dark, straggly hair and dark, proud brooding eyes set in a gaunt arrogant smile danced playfully on her thin was Bellatrix Lestrange.

Hermione had heard of her once or twice before _yes, _Hermione thought smiling slightly at the picture, _your known by the company you keep_, but this image was the first time she had seen the death eater and something about her captivated Hermione.

Years in Azkaban had destroyed much of Bellatrix's looks, but despite this, she was still a beautiful woman.

Hermione, to this day, didn't know what made her keep this image.

It wasn't to remind her of her teenage years, ruined by Bellatrix's kind. No, she still had those heinous memories seared into her memory. They still came back to haunt her in her dreams.

Nor was it to remind her of the death eater herself. Hermione still bore the scars of the torture Bellatrix had inflicted upon her. The word 'Mudblood' could still be seen clearly on her forearm and a constant reminder of everything she had gone through.

Something about that picture had made Hermione's heart leap when she saw it. At first, she put it down to fear and shock, but later…

She couldn't get that face out of her mind and found herself feeling strangely comforted when she was looking at the image.

She couldn't explain the feeling, she hadn't felt like that ever before, she was only 15 after all, still little more that a child, despite everything she had already been through.

It was only later, after the battle at the ministry, where Sirius died, did she realise she was in love with Bellatrix.

She still was, despite everything that had happened. Even now, knowing how she felt, Hermione felt sick to the pit of her stomach with disgust at herself. Why this woman? A Deatheater!

This was wrong. Seriously wrong. It made no sense and yet it felt so right.

This woman had tortured her, killed Dobby and Sirius as well as torturing Neville's Parents into insanity and countless others, yet she could not deny the way she felt.

She loved Ron dearly. She really did. He made her happy, but then there was Bellatrix…

Perhaps it was knowing nothing could ever happen between them, that even if she was alive, it would be forbidden, was what made Hermione feel this this way. Bellatrix was forbidden fruit and that made Hermione want her more. _What a heartache loving you turned out to be_ thought Hermione.

Hermione remembered the first time she saw Bellatrix in the flesh.

It had been in the department of mysteries.

She had heard her before actually seeing her.

Bellatrix had spoken in a harsh voice which sounded as though it was getting used to being used again after many years.

Hermione's stomach had clenched in both fear and excitement: fear at suddenly being surrounded by death eaters, excitement at being face to face with the woman she couldn't stop thinking about.

She had stared in the direction her voice was coming from, hoping to make eye contact but fearing it too.

Bellatrix seemed to be too interested in Harry and the prophecy to care about the others.

Then she had laughed. It was harsh, loud and sounded half mad. It pierced Hermione's very soul and made her gasp slightly.

When Bellatrix had lowered her hood, Hermione saw the object of her affection's face for the first time.

It was hollow and gaunt but her whole face seemed to dance with life, especially her eyes which seemed ablaze with energy.

She was quivering with anticipation at the thought of torturing again. Her chest rose and fell heavily, and to Hermione seductively, at which she had let out a moan of longing as Harry had yelled at her.

Shortly after that she had been knocked unconscious and missed the events that had followed.

She had awoken and her first thoughts were for Bellatrix and if she had survived.

When she had discovered about Sirius, she felt a deep sadness that this war was turning cousin against cousin and making it harder for Hermione to justify her feelings for a Death eater when they were on opposite sides.

But she knew then that she did love Bellatrix.

If only there was a way of telling her this. But, she was, to be quite honest, a Mudblood.

Bellatrix would be disgusted at the thought.

The second time the two of them had met had been so horrifying, yet such sweet agony all at once.

It was in the Malfoy's Manor after the snatchers had caught them.

Bellatrix had stopped right in front of her, gazing intently at her face, trying to recognise her.

It was all Hermione could do to stop herself blurting out her feelings and throwing herself at the mercy of her beloved.

It had been two long years since she had seen her and how long she had yearned to see her once more. Her heart pounded in her breast and her legs felt weak as she had held that gaze, desperately trying to communicate her feelings to the older woman.

She had felt hope and excitement when Bellatrix had singled her out but the fear in the death eater's eyes and voice made Hermione quake. There was something wrong.

Then she was being dragged roughly away and thrown on the floor. She lost sight of Harry and Ron as they were taken to the cellar.

The next moment, Bellatrix was standing over her, oh, how she had wanted to pull her down beside her and run her hands over that body.

Bellatrix trod down hard on her hand and hissed, "How did you get into my vault?"

Hermione was perplexed and didn't understand. She shook her head and mouthed wordlessly, trying not to cry out.

"Liar!" Bellatrix cried and kicked her hard several times in the ribs which caused Hermione to scream in pain.

"Maybe this will loosen your tongue, _Crucio_!" The pain was unbearable and she screamed louder that she ever had in her life.

She couldn't understand why the woman she loved was being like this to her. Perhaps Bellatrix was skilled in Occulmency and had read Hermione's feelings? But that didn't explain why the sword mattered.

"Well?" Bellatrix had snarled, "Where did you get the sword?"

"We... We found it" she whimpered.

The Bellatrix had suddenly leapt upon her. Her knees between Hermione's thighs, her face had been inches from the tormentors. She could feel the warmth of her breath on her face. Bellatrix's heaving chest directly above Hermione's. She had suddenly felt exhilarated at the closeness of their bodies. It felt so right and natural.

But Bellatrix's eyes had not shown anything other than fear and anger.

She had stared at Hermione for several seconds before twisting her body sideways and letting her weight pin her to the floor and grabbed Hermione's upper arm with one hand. Hermione gasped at the direct touch. Bellatrix had surprisingly soft hands. Bellatrix drew her wand and had grinned menacingly at Hermione before tracing the letter 'M' into her lower arm with the wand. Hermione screamed with agony and sobs racked her body.

She had often dreamt of Bellatrix lying on her like she was but never in this situation.

Hermione felt Bellatrix's heart beating against her own breast and it was such sweet heaven but the torture would surely kill her.

"This will stop here if you tell the truth" the older woman had said calmly, almost sweetly.

"I… I am! P…P…Please don't" she had found it hard to talk.

Then more agony as 'U' and 'D' were added. She could feel the warm trickle of blood down her arm from the cuts.

"You clearly got it from my vault! What else did you take?" Bellatrix screamed, enraged.

"Nothing, I swear. We never went to Gringotts." She had gasped.

She screamed again as the word 'Blood' was carved. She wasn't sure how much more she could take, her mind was in turmoil, torn between her love for the Deatheater and the pain that was inflicted upon her and confusion about what she meant about the sword and her vault.

"I… don't… understand…" she said weakly.

"Filth! Of course you do- _Crucio!_"Bellatrix had then let that curse torture Hermione for over 5 minutes before relenting; she now stood over her again.

Hermione was shaking visibly and drenched in sweat.

"The sword must be a copy" she whispered.

"Ha! A likely story! Fetch the goblin, Draco!"

As Draco had gone to do his aunts bidding, Bellatrix had pointed her wand once more.

"Please. Stop!" begged Hermione.

"Ha-ha! Beg all you want scumbag, there's more where that came from. _Crucio!"_

The pain engulfed her once again but this time, it was too much and she had lost consciousness.

She had come round in Shell cottage with a slight nick on her neck. She had been told Bellatrix had tried to hold her to ransom with a knife to her neck to make Harry and Ron surrender.

She had been scarred, both mentally and physically by that encounter with the Deatheater which had made her feel even more confused and angry about her feelings for her.

She was wasting her time brooding over a woman who quite clearly couldn't feel anything other than hatred with a vile urge to dominate everyone and everything.

Still, she had pined, remembering how close their bodies had been with joy and how it had almost made the physical pain that had been inflicted bearable.

When the day came for her to become her beloved, in order to break into Bellatrix's vault at Gringotts, she had felt strangely exhilarated at the thought, yet terrified as well.

As well as love and longing, Hermione now felt a new emotion when thinking of the older woman, fear.

She knew she had only narrowly escaped from that that experience with her life.

Now, she had been faced with the task of becoming her, holding that wand.

The very wand that had caused her so much pain and suffering as well countless others. She loved Bellatrix and feared her in equal measure but her wand terrified her, despite Hermione being the one in charge of it, she felt it could turn somehow think for itself and would turn upon her and torture her again as punishment for taking it from its rightful owner.

That morning, Hermione went to the bathroom to transform. After nearly throwing back up the PolyJuice Potion, she watched her body transform into the Death eater's. She stood in front of the full length mirror on the back of the door and saw Bellatrix Lestrange gazing moodily back at her.

Hermione looked down at the rest of the strange body she now inhabited and gasped. It was beautiful.

Despite her age, Bellatrix had the body of a 20 year old. Her breasts were firm and still high on her chest. Her stomach was flat and covered with soft, delicate, pale skin. Her thighs and buttocks were toned and strong.

Hermione ran her hands over the Death eater's curves. This was that body that ley beneath those robes. The very body Hermione had dreamt of unwrapping for years.

It was Bellatrix's legs that she marvelled at: they were long and pale, firm and perfectly formed. Incredibly shapely, the envy of any woman.

The body would have been perfect had it not been for the many pale streaks in the flesh that were scars.

Hermione felt her heart fill with emotion. Bellatrix may have done some terrible things in her life but she had clearly suffered for them. Hermione traced a few with sadness.

She had then reluctantly dressed herself in some robes she had fashioned into Bellatrix's style, pulled on some boots and forced herself not to try and tame the Death eater's long rippling hair too much. She had to be convincing.

Walking through Diagon Alley, Hermione found herself equally fearing and admiring Bellatrix for the respect, mainly through terror, she was receiving from people they passed.

When Travers had joined them, Hermione had had to put on the performance of her life and thought she did an admirable job to prevent detection.

The imperious curse Harry had used on Travers and the Goblin confused her slightly as how to answer but that was only a slight hiccup.

She had actually begun to enjoy being her beloved. She was someone of stature and power and every time her hand brushed that body, she felt happy, complete. The only other way to feel this would be for the two of them to be together properly, but that could never happen.

Then, thief's downfall broke the enchantment and separated Hermione from Bellatrix again, though she was wearing robes and boots which were now too big for her.

Then they had entered the vault and nearly died in the attempt to get the cup and escape again.

The last time she had seen her beloved had been during the final battle of Hogwarts.

When she had seen Harry's apparently lifeless body, her eyes had swept the hoard of death eaters entering the courtyard.

She had seen Bellatrix standing near her master, a gloating happiness etched across every part of her face. It made her look almost radiant, more beautiful than ever.

Her treacherous heart was now telling her Voldemort had won. There now was no good or evil. If she gave herself willingly to his cause, there might be a way for her and Bellatrix…

But no. she had almost vomited at the thought of betraying her friends. Her best friend had just sacrificed himself. How could she think this?

Mere minutes later, she had unhappily found herself in combat with Bellatrix. She had fought with a heavy heart, aiming badly in the hope of missing her. She would rather have died at Bellatrix's hand than kill her.

She was somewhat relieved when Mrs Weasley had barged in and taken over the duel. She had stood trembling to the side, watching the two women fight to kill. Her heart ached terribly. One was about to die, but she didn't want either to.

She had never seen Molly look as she did now: rage and fear had burnt bright in her eyes. It created her a whole new persona, commanding and authorative without a trace of maternal affection.

The skilled witch that she was, finally emerging.

All the while Hermione's love smiled and laughed, enjoying every second, Hermione had watched her every move with tears in her eyes.

Then it had happened: a curst hit her in her heart. She fell with the trace of a smile still on her face.

Hermione wanted to scream but knew that would betray her.

Back in her room, Hermione brought herself out of her thoughts. She was still looking at the cutting.

A droplet dripped off the end of her nose. She realised she was crying.

Those thoughts she had of the one she loved were bittersweet memories. That was all she had taken with her form those encounters.

Ever since that battle, Hermione had a hole in her heart, caused by the death of Bellatrix that refused to heal.

She felt empty and always had a feeling of loss and longing. She was incomplete.

She hated feeling this way but at the same time it reminded her of her love for the death eater. This constant pain in her heart was what it was like to love and lose.

She sighed and folded the cutting up and put it away. She still had her memories and the word 'Mudblood' on her arm to remind her of Bellatrix, but none of it would bring her back. She was, after all, dead. She had seen that happen herself. She couldn't understand why she wanted to hold on when even a fool would let go of those feelings.


	2. Bellatrix's Sadness

_**Chapter 2: i decided to write this chapter in the first person. let me know what you think, if yuo prefer it like this or not. i just found it oddly easier to write Bellatrix's point of view like this. there are also some dolly parton lyrics/ song titles included._

*** Bellatrix's Sadness ***

Yet again, I'm lying on my bed staring at you with such longing, I feel like my heart will burst. I'm living on memories of you.

You would be sick with disgust if you knew how I felt about you. You would say I was a traitor for my cause and Master. But my cause is dead like my master, I even died for them. I, Bellatrix Lestrange cannot be called a traitor now!

Yes, I did die at molly Weasley's hand but my master was not the only one to make Horcrux's. My sister, Narcissa kept the only one I made, here, in her manor. She and her husband gave me life again. I owe her so much.

The world thinks me gone and I'm happy to let it. I barely leave this room, let alone the manor. When I do it is always in disguise. The world doesn't need or want me back. I caused too much pain. Loving you from afar helped me see that.

I remember the first time I laid eyes on you. I had never even heard of you before, but then why should I have? I had been in Azkaban since you were a baby and you were and underage witch still at school.

It was in the department of mysteries. A very apt place in a way because of how mysterious you and the feelings you stirred up in me were, ha. 'The mystery of the mystery,' I believe the song goes.

We observed you in the darkness, waiting for the prophecy to be removed from its shelf before appearing. I saw you with fear and uncertainty in your eyes. But it was the innocence in them that attracted me to you. And, oh, how innocent you looked in your school uniform.

Your hair was tied back in a perfect French plait. Your Gryffindor Tie was done right up to the neck and your robes which were fastened around your shoulders, over your jumper, were uncreased.

You looked the very image of a model schoolgirl. Oh, how strong that desire to corrupt you was. The urge to be the first to touch your bare body intimately.

When we had surrounded you, I felt your eyes burning into mine with such fear; I forced myself to forget you and began taunting Potter. But I couldn't forget your presence. I couldn't control myself, I had to reveal my face to you in the dimmest hope you would reciprocate my feelings once you saw me. I was once a great beauty, but now that beauty lives in memory only.

My heart beat rapidly, causing me to breathe more quickly, out of nervousness. I felt I would have died if disgust had shown upon your face. Terror, however, would have excited me.

I needed to complete the task at hand so I picked out the ginger girl for torture. I couldn't bear the thought of harming you. Not in that way anyway, not yet.

Then my attention was drawn back to Potter and that was the last I saw of you. Your curses took us by surprise and you disappeared in the chaos.

Me and my husband. Pah! What a sad excuse for a man he was. He couldn't make me happy. I married him because he was a pure-blood and very little else. We went off in one direction, I was desperate to find you, take you away, to ensure your safety. To keep you for myself.

But I couldn't find you. You had gone and I was worried I would never see you again. Then battle was joined. It was then I killed my cousin, Sirius.

I didn't want to kill that night. Not after setting eyes on you, anyway. I knew that if I killed, you would never forgive me; you would hate me more and make our differences greater.

But, you see, he taunted me. Through our whole duel, he was laughing at me. Telling me to do better. My anger and hatred overflowed and… I got him.

Well, none of that matters.

For the next two years, I pined for you. The pain in my heart was almost unbearable. Night and day it continued. I dreamt about you almost every night, waking the next morning with empty arms and an aching heart. I longed to see you again, as I do now.

Your poster says 'undesirable no. 2 Hermione Granger. Mudblood.'

You are nowhere near as threatening in yours as I was in mine. You just glare and frown. They could never have made you look dangerous.

You are number 2, after the Potter boy, because you have brains and that along with your loyalties make you dangerous. You should be number 1 because without you, Potter would be nothing. Weasley only makes number 3 because he is with you, otherwise he'd be no threat to anyone.

Your poster hangs by my bed. I am like a teenager again, in love with some singer or something. Your face inches from mine.

The way it was the day I saw you again. I often think about that day. It gives me joy and comfort to remember your touch, breath and scent next to my body. Even if, at the same time, it brings me pain.

I heard snatchers had brought three kids to the house so I had to come and look for myself, to ensure it was you or not.

Then I saw you and my heart jolted with shock that rendered me almost speechless.

You were here at last, in front of me and at my mercy, after two years of dreaming. I couldn't quite believe it.

I couldn't get over how much you had grown. You were taller, shapelier. More like a woman.

Sadly, the look of innocence had gone, to be replaced with a look of experience way beyond your years. How you had grown up in two years. Mind you, that down to my masters' doing wasn't it?

He enforced the harsh lessons of life early upon many and made them age before their time.

Now I had you, I wasn't about to let you go again. The others could die but you, my dear, would have been my prize. I'd have saved you from my master and you would have been so grateful, you would have done _anything_ to please me!

Then I saw the sword.

Pain and anger erupted within me. You had stolen that sword. You had betrayed me, you put me in great danger and it hurt so badly, I felt no choice but to hurt you as well.

I grabbed your arm and threw you on the floor, the hurt, scared look you gave me made me want to weep but the thought of my master made me close my heart to you and so it began, my torture of you.

Harming such a beautiful body should have been a crime in itself, never mind the spells and curses I used.

All it would have taken for me to stop was four little words "yes, I took it".

But you refused, and kept lying and so it continued.

Your screams made my heart race and stomach flip in wild excitement. I was making you cry out, just as in my dreams. It may have been the wrong type but it was a scream coming from your lips nonetheless.

Then I could contain myself no longer. I had to be touching your body. I cared not for who was watching.

I sprang upon you. Separating your firm thighs with my knees, seizing your wrists to prevent you from fighting back. I allowed your warm rapid breath to warm my own face for a few seconds, revelling in the closeness of your young, beautiful, untouched body. Your chest heaved and your pulse raced. I could feel it in your wrists as I held them still.

I looked directly at your face, trying desperately to find something resembling affection registering in it, but all I saw was fear and confusion looking back at me out of a tear-stained face. I prayed my own face didn't betray my feelings. Then I allowed my body to rest on yours. I had to bite my lip to prevent a moan of pleasure escaping from them. I finally had you beneath me.

Our chests were next to each other and our hearts raced as one but for different reasons.

As I turned and grabbed your upper arm, you gasped, this gave me hope. I turned to smile but it came out wrong and seemed to scare you further.

I then noticed your skin. It was so soft and supple and pale with no moles or blemishes. It was like untouched snow, pure, like you, untouched and inexperienced.

How, at that gasp, I wanted to rip off your clothes and make you experienced in the ways of making love. However, to desecrate such a pure and beautiful thing as you in such a way seemed like a crime.

I went back to the task at hand and violated your body in a different way. I carved 'Mudblood' into your arm, not entirely to get you to talk but as a memento, so you would never forget me. I knew by now there was no way for us, but I had to ensure you would remember me as I would you. So. Do I ever cross your mind?

Sick, I know, but it was the only thing I could think of and besides, it's who I am.

You squirmed and wriggled beneath me, crying out. I pressed down harder on you, partly to be closer, partly to prevent me losing my grip. It was sweet heaven, it felt so right.

For a moment, my anger relented and I spoke sweetly to you and you begged me not to go any further, I nearly gave in to your request but then I remembered how furious my master would be and so I continued.

My anger and desperation got the better of me in the end. I reluctantly stood up and tortured you with the Cruciatas curse. I let it go on for far too long. You could barely speak and eventually passed out.

Then they escaped from the dungeons.

My first thought was to protect you. To keep them from separating us again. I grabbed you up to me, you know nothing of this. I held you to me with my arm across your stomach.

I'm sure you have been told I held a knife to your throat. Yes, this is true, but I had no intention of using it. It was an incentive for your friends to surrender.

But that damn house-elf!

He dropped the chandelier and to my shame, I dropped you to save myself. Then I lost you.

You all disapparated and without thinking, I threw my knife where you had gone, I felt horror and fear when I saw it caught up in the spell with you. I was terrified I had thrown it at you.

Weeks went by and there was nothing indicating you and your filthy friends were on the move, plotting. My fear increased, could this lack of movement mean I had injured, or worse, killed you when I carelessly threw that knife?

Then, you broke into my vault at Gringotts.

My relief was short lived as my masters fury came crashing down on the manor and all in his presence at the time. Mainly the goblins themselves who brought the news.

I escaped. I'm ashamed to say I ran from his presence, fearing greatly for my life, that you had put in danger once again.

That night, I lay in bed thinking about how you had robbed me.

The goblins said someone had disguised themselves as me. So, you had used the PolyJuice potion. What part of me did you take and how did you make the robes so convincing?

You, my girl, are a witch of a great many talents. I also knew you had my wand.

How did it work for you? It must have known my feelings for you. Wands are strange like that.

After drinking the potion, you must have changed clothes. So, my dear, what did you make of my body? Weren't you just a bit curious about what I looked like?

Deatheater or not, my body is still human. Did it repulse you by the scars or how normal it looked?

As someone of my personality, did you expect me to have a warped, deformed body as well as mind?

You have seen me naked but I have been denied the pleasure of seeing you in the same state. Perhaps I should have plucked a hair from you?

The thought of you as me, made me feel that, for a time, even though not bodily, we were together. You were thinking of me. That made me happy.

The last time we met I recall, brought me much torment.

I hadn't been allowed to enter the school with the others. After Gringotts, I wasn't trusted enough and was being punished by not being allowed to take part in the slaughter of students loyal to Potter. The Dark Lord knew how much I'd have enjoyed that and so I was forced to remain at his side with Cissy and her husband. They weren't the only ones longing to enter the castle to find someone. I did also. I longed to find you and keep you from harm. It had been agonising, waiting in the forest, hearing nothing but faint noises of the battle outside. Then Potter had appeared and I knew I would soon be allowed to seek you out. I was terrified at the thought that I might be too late.

As the Dark Lord killed the boy, he too collapsed which none of us expected. You were temporarily driven from my mind.

Then all was well again. Cissy claimed he was dead. It mattered not to me whether he had lived or died. It just meant we were now able to enter the castle and I could claim you as my prize.

The walk was slow. Almost a funeral possession for the boy.

Finally we reached the castle and at McGonagall's scream, people flooded out of the doors.

I moved forward to try and spot you. I gloried in the fact I was now a victor in this long, painful war.

I heard you before I saw you and my stomach flipped with happiness. All I waited for now was my Lords' command and you would be mine.

Suddenly, it all changed. We were at war again. I was forced into the castle to escape the centaurs and giants.

I found myself fighting schoolchildren and it infuriated and embarrassed me that I couldn't finish them off.

Then I realised to my horror one of those, was you. I had already caused you so much pain; I couldn't bring myself to do it again. Yet, I couldn't ignore you or safely put you out of action. You hated me and wanted me dead. I couldn't turn my back on you; you would probably curse me from behind. I could no longer trust you to keep to your principles. So, I fought back. Each spell I aimed at you I thought would break my heart. I aimed slightly to the side of you each time, desperate you miss you. At one point I did think that if you were to kill me, I should at least die happy, with you being the last thing I saw.

Molly Weasley then burst in. she removed you and the others from harm. Oh, the joy I felt at that!

Her I didn't mind killing. At least she was an equal opponent. Her skill with a wand almost matched mine.

It was a thrill to be able to finally duel properly again. I was showing off for you, my dear. I wanted to show you what I was capable of. I became too confident in my skill and became complacent. I didn't guard myself and her curse hit my heart. I saw your face which was one of shock and heard my master scream as I fell.

Then I knew nothing until I was brought back by my sister using my Horcrux and I was told what had happened.

My master was dead. We were finally free. He could never return. You had lived, that much I was happy about but now I was forced to stay hidden from the world as I am supposed to be dead.

At times I often wish I had never been resurrected, but left in the peaceful slumber of death. Life is so dull. My husband still thinks I died that night at Molly's hand. I am going to let him. He never meant anything to me. I'm better off without him. I still have my sister.

The only thing worth living for is knowing you are out there somewhere. My heart aches for your touch again. My lips burn for yours, I promise I will play nice this time. I could never hurt you again.

It has been 19 years and oh, they have crawled slowly by. What do you look like now my love? You are now a grown woman of 36, no longer my innocent schoolgirl dressed in Hogwarts robes.

You know what? I'm tired of staring at your poster, snatching bit of information from Draco and the Daily Prophet, although anything's better than nothing.

Forget it! I'm throwing caution to the wind. I can stand this heartache no longer.

I must find you!


	3. Dreams do come true

_** WARNING: contains a scene of a strong sexual nature between two women. I must also add that I have never attempted a fem-slash story before and do not have any idea of what takes place between two women in the bedroom so I adapted it slightly, I am sorry if I offend anyone, I have not got anything against same-sex relationships.**_

***Dreams do come true***

After gleaning various valuable pieces of information from Lucius and Draco about Hermione, Bellatrix discovered she had married Ron Weasley and had two children, the eldest of which was at Hogwarts, whit Draco's son, and her great-nephew, Scorpius.

Bellatrix hated being called 'great-auntie' because it mad her remember her own Great Aunts, who seemed to her at the time, ancient and to be called one herself, made her feel old and past it, despite being only in her mid-60's,'which was barely middle-age for a witch. And as such, she was still able to bear children if she so wished.

Despite what Scorpius called her, she doted on him and missed him greatly when he left for Hogwarts. He took her mind off her great anguish when he was around.

Bellatrix was greatly disappointed in Hermione for choosing the Weasley boy. She was a very talented witch and could have had anyone she chose, there was no need to aim that low.

Bellatrix's next step was to find where Hermione was living.

To do this she needed to gain access to the Ministry of Magic to look up her residence in the files kept on all magical people within the country.

She borrowed a pair of her sisters robes and cut and straightened her hair so that it just touched her shoulders and changed its colour to a light brown and changed her eye colour to green and added a couple of moles to her left cheek and suddenly she was unrecognisable.

She smirked horribly as she remembered that her late niece Nymphadora had been a Metamorphmagus and had been able to change her appearance at will without the use of a wand.

_Well_, she thought, _that ability had done her no good at all in the long run._

She briefly wondered if Nymphadora's son had inherited that gift before pushing it away. _No. _she shook her head, _the whole lot of them were blood- traitor. They aren't worth thinking about._

But wasn't she about to commit a sin against her pure-blood family, with a Mudblood, who, to make matters worse, was another woman?

Did that make her as bad as her sister, Andromeda, who married a muggle? Or worse because she was going against the natural law of opposite sex partnerships.

Suddenly, she was full of inner turmoil. Should she carry out her plan and give in to her desire and drop all of her principles and beliefs and dirty herself with a Mudblood or spend the rest of her life pining in secret but upholding the beliefs she had been brought up with?

No. she had wasted enough of her life doing what was expected of her and upholding her family's beliefs and look how that had ended: most of her family was now dead or back in Azkaban, she too had died for those beliefs. The Horcrux had given her a second chance at life and this time she was going to live it by her own rules and how she was fit. She had already wasted 19 years pining for the one she loved, now was the time to act.

Bellatrix left the Malfoy manor and once outside the grounds, she apparated to a side alley near the entrance to the ministry and entered it in the middle of a crowd on their way to work.

Bellatrix looked around the atrium as she walked and remembered the last time she was here had been the night she killed Sirius. Nothing had changed in all that time, she observed. She saw the spot Potter had the Cruciatas curse on her and laughed softly to herself.

Then she heard a man's voice shout, "Hermione!" and she spun around so fast she nearly knocked over a man next to her.

"Watch it! Can't you see me here!" he shouted indignantly, but Bellatrix wasn't listening.

Her eyes scanned the crowd for the sound of the voice and someone responding to it, she suddenly realised she no longer knew what Hermione looked like. She could be standing next to her and not know.

"Hermione!" the voice called again.

Then Bellatrix found its owner: a tall, thin red headed man was wading through the crowd waving something above his head.

_Well, that's Weasley is it? _Thought Bellatrix, _he hasn't changed much._

Her attention was caught by a dark blonde haired witch making her way towards him.

Bellatrix followed her, keeping her distance.

"What is it Ron?" the witches' voice sounded worried.

Bellatrix's heart leapt. It was her!

"You… forgot your lunch. That's all" was the reply.

Hermione hit him on the arm.

"Ow! If that's the thanks I get, I'll let you starve next time!"

"You fool! I thought something had happened to Hugo at the shop. You know I don't like him being there with George and you. You teach him such bad behaviour. I still vividly remember what George and Fred were like at school!"

Bellatrix noticed a brief cloud pass over Ron's' face before he replied "have some faith Hermione! He's only been there 40 minutes. That would be some kind of record! You know he never meant to add that hair to the love potion mix George was making."

"Yes, well, try telling that to old Mrs Parton over the road. She 141 for crying out loud! She doesn't need a load of teenagers staring love-struck at her and sending her stuff. To make it worse, some of those kids were girls!"

Ron looked uncomfortable.

"You know she still threatens to curse us." Hermione added.

"Why? That was months ago! Besides, at her age you'd think she'd be glad of a bit of attention. It's got to have been a while. Anyway, it's her fault for going round and moulting everywhere. Hugo was just clearing it up."

"Whatever. Just keep him out of trouble. I'll see you later." Hermione pecked her husband on the cheek and turned to go.

"I will. I'll tie him to a chair or something," Ron grinned.

Hermione shot him a filthy look over her shoulder. Bellatrix followed Hermione again, this time towards the lifts.

They joined the same lift with a large group of people who got out on the first and second stops. Then it was just them.

Hermione turned to Bellatrix, "which department are you going to?"

Taken aback in shock at being addressed, Bellatrix stuttered, "urm… er… the department of… magical Law enforcement… I'm looking up some old friends… in the records."

"Oh, I see, same floor as me then. When did you lose contact with them?"

"Oh er about nine… ten years ago now."

To say nineteen would have aroused too much suspicion.

"Wow. Long time."

"Yes. It is." Bellatrix glanced sideways. She could hardly breathe; her heart was pounding against her ribs so hard she was sure Hermione would be able to hear it.

The woman next to her was certainly not the schoolgirl she remembered. She was taller and more shapely, her hair was shorter and had been straightened. Faint lines had appeared around her eyes and bags showed she seemed to get little rest.

She wore a muggle business suit with a skirt which was fitted perfectly to her figure; she had obviously come in via the street.

_She is more beautiful now than I remember her,_ thought Bellatrix.

They then arrived at their floor and both went their separate ways, Bellatrix noted in which direction Hermione took, _till we meet again,_ she thought as she headed for the records room.

Bellatrix found Hermione under 'W' for 'Weasley'. She muttered aloud as she scanned the information: "age 36, married Ronald Weasley… 2 children… occupation, head of magical law enforcement at ministry of magic… lives, Maidstone, Kent. Address, 95 Joshua Drive."

Satisfied with the information she now had, Bellatrix turned to leave.

Near the lifts, she saw Hermione talking to a tall, muscular man with red hair "… so mum wanted to know if it would be ok for Hugo to stay as well? You know how she loves to have the children around." He was saying.

"You know Bill that would be great. Hugo loves staying there and was asking only last week when he could see his grandparents again, plus Ron's going out with Harry tonight so now I can get on with some work without being disturbed."

"Ok. I'll pick Hugo up on my way there then, around 6ish?"

"Sounds good to me, I'll see you later" Hermione said beaming at her brother-in-law.

Bellatrix could hardly believe her luck. Not only did she now know where Hermione lived but also that she would be on her own tonight!

Bellatrix stood opposite the road, deep in the already lengthening shadows of a large oak.

It was nearly 8pm and the sun was setting fast. The birds had long finished their night chorus and had gone to sleep; now the only sounds that could be heard were that of cars and the odd snuffle of a badger or hedgehog.

She had resumed her usual look and appearance. It was risky, should she be seen and recognised but necessary. Hermione had to see her. She had to believe what she was being told.

Bellatrix wore a large hooded cloak to shield her face from view.

A loud 'crack' signalled to her that someone had just apparated nearby.

A tall black haired man with glasses walked up the path to the door and rang the bell.

Ron opened it and shouted to his wife, "Hermione, Harry's here, we're off. See you later!"

Hermione came to the door in a dressing-gown.

"Wait a minute you two! Ron, please let me know if you're not coming back tonight."

Harry was the one to reply, "But Hermione, we won't know if we are or not until it's too late and we aren't able to make any sense!"

This resulted in the men sniggering as Hermione frowned at them.

"That's what I mean! The last time you two went out, you nearly got arrested and would have cursed the policeman if George hadn't stopped you and Ron tried to apparated home and ended up in a cess-pit 2 miles away!"

"Oh well, I was thinking about what a load of Shit Harry had got himself into and there I was. In a load of it myself!"

"Yes. Thank you Ronald. The house smelt for days!"

"Oh, lighten up Hermione, we're only having a bit of fun," laughed Harry.

"You do the same and see how Ginny reacts!"

"C'mon Harry, your winding her up now," said Ron.

The two of them walked up the path and stopped to wave goodbye.

"Have fun and don't do anything silly like steal a flying car!"

"Get real, Love. We did that one at 12. Our imagination's a lot better now; it'll be more like a whomping willow!"

"Do not expect me and Ginny to bail you out of Azkaban. We'll let you sit and rot!" Hermione shouted as the men laughed and disapparated together with a loud 'crack'.

Hermione shook her head in exasperation and closed the door.

Bellatrix waved her wand again to check there were no protection enchantments over the house before approaching it and ringing the bell.

"You forgot your keys didn't you?" Hermione laughed as she approached the door, "I knew you wou-" She stopped mid-sentence as she opened the door and saw the hooded figure the other side.

She paled slightly, "c-can I help you?"

Bellatrix nodded under her hood but stayed silent. She had to get in the house first.

Hermione frowned slightly but stood aside, "you'd better come in."

As the door closed, Hermione asked, "Do I know you?"

"Oh yes. We go way back," Bellatrix said softly.

Hermione stared at the hooded figure. There was something familiar about the voice but she couldn't place it, either way, it made her uneasy, then she realised with a lurch of her stomach, she didn't have her wand with her.

"W-who are you?" said Hermione with as much confidence as she could manage.

Under the cloak, Bellatrix took a deep breath and removed the cloak as she turned round.

Hermione screamed and backed up to the door, fumbling with the latches in her haste to escape.

Bellatrix saw her panic, dropped the cloak and raised her hands.

"Hermione, I mean you no harm, I came here to talk. My wand is in the waistband of my robes, come and take it if you think me a threat. I swear I will not harm you."

Hermione hesitated, considering her options, then her legs gave way and she sunk to the floor, at Bellatrix's feet once more, but Bellatrix crouched down also, removed her wand and threw it to the other side of the hall.

"There, I am defenceless." She said looking into Hermione's brown eyes, her heart heavy at the panic and fear she was once again causing the younger woman.

"You're meant to be dead. I saw it!" Hermione whispered.

Bellatrix sat down properly, "yes, I did die but I had a Horcrux. My sister used it to bring me back."

Hermione mouthed wordlessly. How could this be? She had only looked at that picture the other day, remembered her feelings and everything that had gone on between them and now, the woman she had loved for 20 years was sat in her hall, talking to her. Why? What did she want?

They sat in silence, gazing at each other, trying to read each other's thoughts for several minutes.

Then Bellatrix sighed and stood up. She walked across the room, felling Hermione's eyes burning into her back, bent down and picked up her wand and walked back to Hermione and held it out to her.

"There, take it. You're never going to trust me until you know I'm harmless."

Hermione reached out and with a shaking hand, took the wand.

Bellatrix then held out a hand to her and after a second's hesitation, Hermione grasped it and was pulled to her feet. They were now face-to-face, gazing intently at each other, inches apart, both of them fighting to control themselves. Then Bellatrix stepped aside, allowing Hermione to lead the way to the lounge.

It was large and airy and beautifully decorated with pictures of Hermione and Ron's children and other Family friends.

There was a strange box from which people were talking and moving about on.

Hermione gestured to the sofa's and muttered, "Sorry, Ron was watching TV before he went out, I'll turn it off… um… er… drink? Tea, coffee, firewater, mead? Sorry, my head's all over the place… this is so… surreal."

"Tea's fine thank you. Just milk." Replied Bellatrix. She was still wondering what the hell a TV was.

Hermione walked into the kitchen and leaned against the fridge with her forehead and closed her eyes. Surreal was right. Here she was making small talk with a Deatheater!

What could they possibly have to talk about?

"I'm having hallucinations. That's all. I've got a fever and I'm going to wake up in St Mungo's. Just carry on as normal. It'll all be fine" she tried to tell herself.

Bellatrix was looking around the lounge from the sofa.

_What am I doing here? She was happy; she didn't need me coming here and re- opening old wounds._

She smiled slightly at the analogy, but couldn't get rid of the feeling she had made a great mistake.

Hermione reappeared with the tea. Bellatrix took hers and sipped it.

Hermione threw her a curious look, "You don't want to check I've not done anything to it?"

"No, I trust you. Besides, I'd understand perfectly if you had, in fact, I think I'd be thank you for poisoning me. At least I'd finally be able to rest peacefully without so much heart ache."

"If you wanted to die, why did you make a Horcrux?"

"Ahh, that was before I met you, before my heartache began."

Hermione frowned, "Why did you come her? Why tonight, after all this time?

"I…I couldn't stand it any longer. I had to come and see you. To make amends, I've changed, you changed me."

"How?"

"It doesn't matter. I've wasted my time; I'm just a Deatheater to you and always will be. You've probably sent a message to the Aurors and are talking to keep me here. You hate me and I don't blame you." Bellatrix's head drooped in sadness.

"No I haven't. You came here for a reason and I want to hear it. I don't hate you Bella." Hermione surprised herself with the last bit; she had only ever called the older woman 'Bella' when thinking about her privately.

The death eaters' head shot up to face Hermione. Surprise shone on her face.

"Pardon?" Her tone sounded too harsh for how she meant it to be.

"I'm sorry, I never mean to call you that." Hermione said hastily.

"No, I mean, you don't hate me?"

"No, I don't, I never have, feared yes, after…" her voice trailed off and she instinctively put her hand on her forearm which bore the word 'Mudblood'. Bellatrix saw and was instantly racked by guilt.

"Well how do you feel then?"

"I can't, you'd be disgusted."

"Ha-ha!" Bellatrix laughed harshly, "You forget I was once a Death eater. I have seen and heard so many disgusting things you would never believe me!"

"Oh, I could never forget what you once were. You talked about heartache, yours is conscience. Mine is..."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before finishing, "my Heartache is down to love. I have been in love with you since I was 15."

She reopened her eyes gingerly, dreading the look form the other woman.

"It can't be… your married. You have children." Bellatrix whispered, shocked, her eyes wide.

"Yes, I know. I love Ron with my whole heart and I am so lucky to have him but I… I don't know, it's difficult to explain. You were my first love; I fell in love with that picture from the 'Prophet' after you escaped. I've never told anyone. But I still love you, I always have. There, now I've said it." Hermione was blushing.

"I don't believe it. I came here to confess the same to you and throw myself upon your mercy."

Hermione dropped her cup in shock. It shattered as it hit the floor, neither took any notice.

"No you don't. I'm a Mudblood. You tortured me."

"I hated myself for that but I was terrified of my master. He entrusted the sword to my vault and then you had it and self-preservation kicked in. if I'd have had any idea how you felt, I'd have removed you from the room and spoken to you as an equal and saved you from harm. I am truly sorry."

The words being spoken by Bellatrix seemed strange and unnatural to Hermione, who knew first hand of the Death eater's bloodthirsty past.

Even to Bellatrix, it seemed as though someone else was speaking through her. She had never uttered such emotional, heartfelt words as she did now.

"Is that why you're here? To tell me that?"

"Yes. I couldn't bare it anymore. I had to see you and explain how I felt. I don't know how I expected you to react, but definitely not like this. Though I did dream…"

"You have truly changed then."

"Yes. My way of thinking anyway. My personality is still what most would call sadistic and deranged." Bellatrix gave Hermione a lop-sided smile. "The old ways are gone. They died with my master and your generation, the children of the Wizard wars, are changing magical laws and removing stigma for the better. My family's beliefs are out dated and have no place in this world anymore. I see that now, so I am being who I want to be. I'm starting afresh, as best I can."

"Good. I'm happy for you." Hermione beamed brilliantly across at Bellatrix who smiled weakly back, and then she noticed the broken cup and tea stain on the floor.

She knelt down to pick up the broken china,

"Oh, please, don't worry." Hermione knelt down also and waved a wand to tidy up the spilt tea and realised she was still holding Bellatrix's wand. Hastily she gave it back and retrieved her own.

"That was nearly a second wand you took from me. You're in danger of making a habit of it!" laughed the older witch.

Hermione smiled back, and then remembered something. She dashed upstairs and retrieved the photo from the drawer and a box from the bottom of the wardrobe.

Back in the lounge, she handed the box to the other woman and sat beside her.

"They belong to you. Ron keeps saying I should get rid of them but I can't bring myself to."

Bellatrix opened the box. Inside it contained a knife and a wand, both of which she had lost when Hermione, Ron and Harry escaped from the manor.

"Wow. I never thought I'd see them again. I loved this wand and I thought I'd accidentally killed you when I threw this." She fingered the blade gently.

"No, not me. You got Dobby instead." Hermione said sadly.

"Oh. He never meant anything to me but he was your friend and for that I'm sorry."

Bellatrix was glad that she had decided to only make amends with one person for all of the apologising she was doing tonight!

"This is the first picture I saw of you." Hermione handed over the paper cutting.

"Good grief, I was young here!" Bellatrix exclaimed.

"Healthier, less gaunt, but just as beautiful." Hermione was right. Bellatrix had put on some weight over the years, adding to her curves, but she had aged so incredibly little.

Their eye's met, two former enemies now talking as friends. Both now knew how each other felt, they both felt free in their emotions, they both felt the same: it's all wrong but it's all right, they didn't care anymore.

They were finally again after years of longing, they felt complete.

Bellatrix mad the first move, she placed her hand on Hermione's who didn't draw back, so she leaned in, still looking at the other woman's eyes for any signs of fear or to stop.

Her heart was racing again, through excitement and expectation of what was about to come.

Bellatrix opened her lips and gave Hermione a small kiss on the lips. At the touch, years of longing and pent up expectation was released in both of them. They were now slaves to their passion. One small kiss wasn't enough, both were ravenous for more. Their lips met again and again, Bellatrix, Being the more daring, gently slid her tongue inside Hermione's mouth, their mouths were now locked together, both kissing each other deeply. Hermione marvelled at how soft and delicate the older witch's lips were.

Bellatrix, hardly daring to believe this could go much further, put a hand either side of Hermione's waist and drew her to her, to her amazement, Hermione moved so she was sat straddling Bellatrix's lap and pressed her pelvis and body against the other woman's.

Bellatrix gave a moan of pleasure and paused, gasping for breath,

"You're sure you want this?"

Hermione nodded a reply and started kissing Bellatrix's neck.

Bellatrix found the opening of the dressing gown and ran her hands inside it, all along the contours of Hermione's body. The skin was smooth and soft to the touch and feeling her body being caressed made Hermione feel weak. She started undoing the zip at the back of Bellatrix's dress.

Once undone, it fell away at the front and down the arms revealing Bellatrix's upper body. Exactly as Hermione remembered, even the body itself had failed to age as it should have done; she ran her hands over the Death eater's breasts.

Bellatrix ripped open the dressing gown and shifted position round onto the sofa and gently laid Hermione down while removing the rest of her own garment.

Then, once again, she knelt above Hermione with her knees between her thighs, they were kissing each other, running their hands over every part of the other's body, then Hermione pulled Bellatrix down on top, their chests pressed against each other, their hips rolling in motion.

Bellatrix uttered a strange word which confused Hermione until she felt it. A thrusting feeling inside her, moving the same as Bellatrix was. At first she was alarmed until she realised Bellatrix was getting the same sensation in her as she, Hermione, moved. She relaxed again. The kissing became more passionate and the hip movements more desperate, each other's cries and moans of pleasure getting slightly louder, then at the same time, they both climaxed and ecstasy engulfed their bodies so they both cried out. Neither had felt pleasure like it.

They both lay as they were, panting, exhausted, with Hermione's legs around Bellatrix's thighs and Bellatrix on top of Hermione, resting her head on her chest.

After a while, Hermione started toying with Bellatrix's long dark hair, the older woman looked up into those expressive brown eyes and smiled,

"Well that was worth the wait."

"Yes, it was" Hermione replied, kissing her forehead.

Bellatrix rolled over, lodging herself on her side between Hermione and the back of the sofa, she lightly stroked Hermione's arm with a finger, when she saw the word she, herself had carved there, she lifted the younger woman's arm to her mouth and tenderly kissed every letter she had so cruelly made.

"I can make it disappear if you want. I know the spell to do it, it's a complex, relatively unknown one but I know it." She whispered.

Hermione withdrew her arm, "No. I hate it but I don't want to get rid of it either, it reminds me of you."

They gazed at each other, lost in the other's eyes until the room was illuminated with a bright light in the form of a Jack Russell dog. It was Ron's Patronus, it spoke to them in Ron's voice but they could hear other voices, unseen in the background, he was obviously still in the pub.

"'Ello 'mione. Hope I *hic* didn't wake you. I er *hic* don't think I will be back tonight." It slurred.

"I'm not even *hic* sure I'm doing this right."

"Ron! Just use your bloody mobile!" shouted Harry's voice.

"Harry, I have enough *hic* trouble with that sober, let alone when I'm seeing *hic* double. Now shh. I'm trying to do some complex magic."

"Ron, there's your fire whiskey. Bar man says if you can drink that without passing out, he'll buy us two more rounds each." Said George's voice.

"Blimey! Does he want us to *hic* drink the bar dry or end up in St Mungo's? Oh, shit, Hermione's gonna hear that! Sorry love. *hic* now how do you send it?"

"It's a Patronus not an email, you prat!"

"Shut up. I'll tell Ginny what you called me!"

"Oh, she's called you a lot worse."

"Ahh, now I remember."

And with that the Patronus vanished.

Bellatrix looked at Hermione, laughing, "And that's your husband. And you love him because..?"

They both lay on the sofa laughing about what they had just heard.

"He's got the humour factor at least, I'll give him that." Said Bellatrix composing herself.

Hermione was looking at her.

"What?"

"He said he wasn't going to be back tonight." Hermione smiled suggestively.

She got up, gathered the wands and fallen clothes and held out her hand. Bellatrix took it and was led back into the hall and up the stairs to the master bedroom. They spent the night in each other's arms making love to one another and talking and laughing.

The next morning, Bellatrix dressed early and left so as not to be found by Ron.

At the door, Bellatrix put her cloak on and turned to kiss Hermione.

"I want to see you again."

"So do i. I'll send word, time and place etc. It will be too risky for you to contact me, tell no-one."

"Of course I won't, my sister wouldn't understand. It's just between you and me."

"Just the two of us," Hermione promised, smiling.

A few months later, the two of them met in a hotel lobby. This had happened several times since that night.

Hermione stood as she saw her lover approach.

"Here you come again, looking better than a body has a right to. Especially at you age." She grinned embracing the other woman.

"Well, why'd you come in her looking like that? When you could stop traffic in a gunny sack, Why you`re almost giving me a heart attack!" Bellatrix laughed, "you really don't need to dress up for me, it's not the clothes I'm interested in and they are certainly too good for this shabby place." She indicated the poorly decorated lobby.

"Well, let's see if the room's any better." And with that, Hermione turned towards the lift.

The room was marginally better than the lobby, not that they cared.

Hermione went to use the bathroom while Bellatrix poured two drinks. She could hear Hermione humming and she smiled to herself. She loved these times; they were all she lived for these days. She was still smiling when Hermione came back out, wearing a lacy lingerie set.

"What's got you so happy?"

"Oh, only you. I love sneaking around with you, the way lover's do."

"Yeah, I know, it's thrilling isn't it?" Hermione sat on the bed.

"Doesn't Ron suspect yet?" Bellatrix handed over a glass.

"No he doesn't. He thinks I'm busy at work or have new friends. He doesn't mind, bless him."

"Ah, good. I don't s'pose I could persuade you to dump the dude?"

"Ha-ha, no you couldn't. When did you start using the word 'dude' anyway?"

"Since you showed me what a TV was. I've had one installed in the manor. I've been watching a lot of American stuff."

"You had a TV installed in Lucius Malfoy's Manor?" Hermione was incredulous.

"Yes. He was against it to start with, I even had to watch the workmen who came to set everything up as he kept threatening to curse them, but once he found out what it was, he became as addicted as me! He loves Desperate Housewives!"

"Ha-ha! I've never heard anything so funny. I'd love to have seen it all!" Hermione wiped a tear of laughter away from her eye.

Shortly, they fell into each other's arms.

"I'm burning body and soul, I'm out of control!" Bellatrix moaned in the throes of passion.

They lay together after in the tumbled sheets, both content and satisfied, with their arms around each other.

"When I'm holding you, I'm holding everything." Whispered Bellatrix gently, "how long can we go on like this?"

"As long as we can." Came the reply.

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die, forever, together you and I. As often as possible."

The two women smiled at each other knowing that one day one of them would have to make the sacrifice of leaving the other for some reason, whatever that may be, both hoped it was still far off.


End file.
